


Old Habits Die Hard

by momopichu



Series: One shot, One world [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Hope, M/M, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/momopichu/pseuds/momopichu
Summary: A Talon data gathering mission goes south and Reaper is now stuck in an omnium with no one else but a sentimental Soldier to keep him company in his - their - final moments.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I did this on my iPad so there are going to be some iffy errors here and there. If it really screws up, lemme know in the comments and I'll fix it on my laptop once I'm home.

_Shit_.

Gabriel Reyes slumped against the rusting metal crates, pain worming their way up his sides. He bites his lip as he scrutinises the damage done to his kevlar suit. His Reaper regalia is barely holding together, testament to the round of bastion fire he just took. Beside him Soldier: 76 is faring little better, the red visor is broken, revealing one cornflower blue eye, his tacky blue jacket is torn and blood seeps sluggishly from a number of wounds. The soldier is clutching his precious pulse rifle to his chest like a boy with his favourite toy.

How the hell had they ended up here anyway? This was supposed to be a simple data retrieval mission; Talon had pinpointed a valuable data cache in an abandoned omnium, they were supposed to get in, get the intel and get out. The appearance of the old Soldier was expected, after all he'd been tracking them ever since their little scuffle in Egypt. What _was_ unexpected was that the omnium had housed a dormant God AI, that had _coincidentally_ reawakened during the data mining process and started killing the intruders with extreme prejudice.

His Talon squad is all but a mass of flesh riddled by bullet holes across the floor, the only reason why Reaper hadn't joined them was because of his wraith ability - and because of the stupid Soldier beside him. He glances sidelong at the ageing soldier beside him from under his bone mask, the Soldier's white hair is a pale beacon in the shadows. Despite his attempts at being quiet, 76's breath rasps under his mask, a grimace flashes across the single blue eye. The idiot had been locked in combat with Reaper when the omnium flared back into life, the Talon squad who had been guarding the data mining device had been decimated within seconds; being closest to the reactivation site. Reaper would have been next if the Soldier had not activated his tactical visor and provided cover fire long enough to get them both to safety.

 _Some safety_. They were stuck in the hangar, reduced to cowering in the shadows as the omnics began their systemic sweep of the facility for the remaining intruders. It would only be a matter of time before the machines found them. Reaper bites back a grunt, he looked down to find black smog circling around his many wounds; despite Soldier's best efforts, he had still taken hits. If he was still "human", the wounds would have been considered life threatening - instead they were bloody annoying, not to mention painful. His body will regenerate given the chance...but not without souls.

A precarious trade-off. To maintain his regenerative ability and his supposed immortality, he required human souls, after all; only life could give life. He could feel the growing hunger pangs even now, gnawing at the back of his throat and making his ashen skin itch. _Shit_. And the only living soul left within a mile radius just happened to be the Soldier's. Guilt that he had not known he had clawed at him. That would be a fine way of thanking the Soldier for saving his ass - by reaping his soul. Reaper huffs angrily under his mask. _And why should it matter?_ Another part of his mind clamours, Soldier:76 _is_ Jack Morrison, the same Morrison who took _everything_ from him, who left him to _die_ , who continues to make his life a _living hell_.

A guttural grunt escapes the old Soldier beside him, Reaper looks over despite himself. 76 is reaching up, bloody fingers fumbling around the visor on his face. With a hiss of compressed air, the broken face piece slides away revealing the scarred face of a man he once knew.

"You look like shit _cabron_." Reaper chuckled.

76 grins, tossing the now useless visor aside. So stupid. Two supposedly dead men laughing in the back of a rundown hangar bay, awaiting death a second time.

"Reap..." 76 begins, his gruff voice cuts off as his body is wracked by coughs.

"What's that?" Reaper asked "Couldn't hear you pass the sandpaper you keep in your throat."

The scowl Soldier throws at him makes him chuckle again. Huffing, 76 pulls himself up and tries again, "Reap-" He doesn't get far. His body doubles over as another wave of coughs break from his chest. This time Reaper hears it, the dangerously _wet_ noise that permeates each cough.

"Hey hey hey old man, take it easy." Reaper moves, leaning over the Soldier in the dark. He pulls 76's shoulders back to get a good look over the other man. A dribble of blood escapes the chapped lips, his chest is rising and falling too rapidly, struggling to get air into starved lungs. Each gasp of breath is bubbly to Reaper's ears. _Shit_. He pulls aside the Soldier's favourite rifle to uncover a wound as large as his own head.

Reaper rocks back onto his haunches. He doesn't need any medical experience to know the wound is too far gone, the blood is nearly black against Soldier's body, glimmering in the middle is the goddamned cause of his suffering. The slender metal blade is buried deep, seared at the edge most likely from a pulse fire round. The blade is distinctive of the assassin-class omnics - dual wielding melee machines who were deadly at close range. He hadn't even seen them get close to the Soldier.

"Reap..." 76 growls through bloodied teeth, he stretches a hand towards Reaper. "Soul."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Soldier narrows his piercing blue eyes. "Reap. My. Soul." He gasps.

Reaper swats aside the outstretched hand. "Don't try to play hero with me Soldier," he snarls "You're more use to me alive than dead!"

The laugh that escapes Sold- _Morrison's_ body is thick, unsettling. Something about it is just _wrong_ on the once golden boy, if forced to comment Reaper would have said Morrison had finally lost his mind. "Not. A hero. Anymore." He grunts, clutching the gaping wound. "Nothing. Left."

"There's always something left," Reaper snapped. "Your body is one. Now pull your goddamned self together and get up!"

"Still. Soft...Reyes," Morrison chuckles, the noise frothy deep within his throat. He forces himself to sit up but doesn't manage more than a half slouch. "Take. My soul. You need it."

"No."

They glower at each other, Reyes' red eyes piercing from under his own bone mask. But Morrison doesn't back down, he's never seen those blue eyes so icy, so filled with lightning as he does now.

"You won't...get out...like that," Morrison gestures weakly to Reyes' own wounds. "Reap. Heal. And get out." He grunts. "At least - one of us. Has to."

He remembers. _They were separated from the rest of the squad after securing the package. Reyes had taken a shot to his side, the wound was severe. Morrison was carrying him fireman style, leaping over the wreckage even as another round of bastion fire erupted not far from their position. A stray bullet nicks Morrison in the leg. He goes down._

_"Fuck."_

_"Jack. Leave me. You'll never get out like that."_

_The soldier ignores him. Tearing off his helmet to reveal golden blonde hair, he tosses the head gear aside and readjusts his grip on Reyes and takes off again. He's limping but still keeps up the pace. Another round. The bullet hits the already injured leg once more. Morrison grunts but doesn't collapse, he's half hopping now, dragging his injured leg._

_"Dammit Jack! This is an order from your CO, leave me the hell behind and go! At least one of us has to get out!"_

Stupid, stupid soldier. Using his own words against him. And curse him, for getting sentimental now of all times. The sunny golden hair that is now as pale as the moon, the once beautiful face that is now scarred beyond hope. The only thing that hasn't changed are those blue eyes, still rich with feelings and sensations coursing through them.

"Re-no. _Gabe_ ," Jack huffs, his breath is shallow now. Blood dripping freely down his chin. "J-Just...This isn't...isn't redemption. At least...not for me." He grits his eyes, riding out another wave of pain. "N-Not even. An apology. K-Know you won't - forgive me. Don't expect you to." He fixes Gabriel with blue eyes, they're paler now, as if fading away. "This i-is survival. So... _live_."

Curse him and that stupidly selfless hero that continues to shine within.

Gabriel throws the words of ages past back in Jack's stunned face. " _Eat shit_!" He snarls. " _We're getting out of here, both of us! So you better hang on to your fucking socks because I'll drag you out of here - even if I have to do it dead!_ "

They survived a war. They survived heartbreak.

 _Hell_.

They survived an explosion.

They can survive a little flesh wound.

 


End file.
